


Lepidoptera

by chemically_yours



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM elements, Bondage, Butterflies, Dark, M/M, Smut, graphic description of gore, pinch of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 13:28:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chemically_yours/pseuds/chemically_yours
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel had never stood a chance, really. He was a being of light and beauty. It was inevitable that the darkness in Dean would try and snatch him up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lepidoptera

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CatiDono](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatiDono/gifts).



> So there is a story behind the title of this fic. I'm taking Russian Literature with the lovely CatiDono and for the first week we had to read a memoir by Nabokov, who is, in fact, a pretentious asshole. At one point he recounts the following: "I issued a grunt of delight as I bent down to snuff the life out of the black-spotted lepidoptera." A GRUNT OF DELIGHT! For those of you who don't know, Nabokov was a lepidopterist. Dude was obsessed with butterflies. Or as Cati so wonderfully pointed out in the middle of class, "butterflies." And so the prompt for this story was born...in the middle of class...a very small class...I started writing smut in my honors class. I'm a bad student. I will never be able to view butterflies the same way ever again. For any one still reading this note, thank you for your patience. My rant is over. I hope the story behind this fic amused you.

 

Prompt: If Cas is Meg’s Unicorn, I request that Cas be Dean’s Butterfly. Bonus points for delighted grunt during impalement and mounting on ~~walls~~ bed. ~~~~

 

Lepidoptera

 

                Castiel had never stood a chance, really. He was a being of light and beauty. It was inevitable that the darkness in Dean would try and snatch him up.

 

 Dean had resisted as long as he could, but Hell had awoken certain hungers within him. They were dark desires that he would never have been able to fulfill with normal humans made of fragile bones and limited blood. But Cas… Cas was more than any human could ever hope to be. Castiel was strong, nearly indestructible, all lean build and powerful muscles.  His proud wings and cunning mind were wrapped up in the glorious Light of the Lord. Dean’s hands itched to tear him apart.

 

 Hunting helped to ease some of the pressure, but the urges and desires flowing through Dean eventually became too much. The time had come that he started making new plans for Cas. He’d been careful to set everything up perfectly, hiding his intentions as easily as the circle of holy oil now soaked into the dirt of the old barn he was standing in. He’d made the circle as big as he could, taking up at least half of the decrepit building. He’d laid out the tools neatly on an old work bench. Their polished leather and gleaming metal stood out against the back-drop of dull oak.  The bed was an antique salvaged from the ruins of the neighboring farmhouse. He’d made sure to clean it up and get fresh sheets. He’d even set out several candles to burn, their perfume doing little to dampen the scent of must and hay. The rope lay in a heavy coil at his feet. At last everything was in place.

 

 Dean made the prayer to Cas as casual as he could. He did not want Cas to come barging in a panic after all. There was no need to frighten his angel, at least not yet. Thankfully Cas wasn’t slow in responding as Dean feared he might be with too casual a call. He was there almost as soon as the words passed Dean’s lips. Castiel looked around in confusion at his new surroundings. Dean slid the lighter out of his pocket.

 

“Dean, why have you-“

 

Before he could get another word out Dean flicked the lighter and threw it down in front of him. The flames roared to life. Instinctively, Castiel flinched back away from their burning light. He stared up at Dean with wide, uncertain eyes.

 

“Dean, what is the meaning of this?”

 

Dean swallowed thickly. This was the hard part. He’d thought long and hard about how to get Cas to agree to this madness. This was so different from their usual game. Dean hadn’t even mentioned his new ideas to Cas for his opinion. Mostly because he was afraid Cas would say no. That particular fear always lingered in the back of his mind, never far away. Still, he’d been unable to forget the idea once it’d hatched in his mind. Holy fire was one of the few things that could actually do real damage to Cas. The danger had Dean half-hard in his jeans already, never mind the other new toy Dean had laid out glinting on the bench.

 

“Well Cas, take a look around. You tell me what you think is going on here.”

 

Castiel scanned his surroundings carefully, eyes lingering on the bed behind him and narrowing sharply at the workbench to his side. He let out a heavy breath through his nose, but did not deign to share his conclusions with Dean. Instead, he nodded his head once and shrugged the coat from his shoulders. He removed the rest of his clothing efficiently and left them in a neatly folded pile. At last, he kneeled, naked, and waited for Dean’s orders.

 

Dean picked up the rope and crossed over the flames. He walked slowly, keeping eye contact with Cas the entire time. He enjoyed making him wait. At last, he placed a hand on Cas’s head, running his hand through his thick hair. His fingers wandered lower, trailing along his jaw. He brushed a thumb over plumb lips, which parted enticingly. He pushed the lower lip down and dipped his thumb in to tease, pulling it back out before Cas could close his lips around it to suck. He tut-ed gently.

 

“Now, now. You’ll have time to put your mouth to use later. For now, put your hands out in front of you and keep your cock-holder shut.”

 

Dean tied the rope as tightly as he could manage. He watched as the skin around Cas’s wrists began to redden. By the end of the night they would be bloody and raw. He move around and trailed his fingers over the knobs of Cas’s spine and down over the swell of his ass. He gave it a quick, hard smack. Cas flinched but otherwise showed no reaction. It seemed he was complying with his directions for now. Good. Half the fun was seeing how long Cas could hold the noises in.

 

He strolled leisurely over to the workbench and stared down at his options. His hand hovered over his newest addition, the pummel glowing softly in the firelight. But no, that was for later. It wouldn’t do to jump straight to the best part.

 

He turned back around toward Cas with the Cat o’ Nine hanging loosely in his hand. He tapped it gently across his thigh as he looked down into deep blue eyes.

 

“Show them to me.”

 

Castiel remained silent. The question had just been a formality. He hadn’t wanted a response yet. He reeled back to land a blow straight across Castiel’s face. This time he did let out a pained gasp. Dean smiled as red bloomed. He placed the handle under Cas’s chin and tilted it up until he was once again meeting Dean’s gaze. His left eye was already beginning to swell shut. He dropped his hand and circled around the kneeling man.

 

He let out another strike before he even came to a full stop. Red lines flared across sharp shoulder blades. They could only look lovelier framed by the inky black feathers Dean knew were hiding. That would be fixed soon enough. But for now….

 

He lashed out again, lower this time. Once more to the middle. More strikes to the top. One, Two. He was really getting into his rhythm now. Another across the top of ass. Another two in quick succession. The leather thongs made a wet thwack, music to his ears. He paused to listen to the heavy pants Castiel issued as his chest heaved. He admired the mosaic of red lines painted into skin. Angry welts rose up and blood trickle down where the skin had cracked. Damn. Had he been hitting that hard? He hadn’t meant to draw blood so early in the game. He delivered one last strike to his upper back, satisfied by the pained groan he received.

 

He palmed the back of Castiel’s head in mimicry of affection before shoving him roughly to the floor. He didn’t even spare a glance to the other man as he stalked back over to the work bench.  Decisions, decisions. His eyes skimmed over the assortment of knives sitting out. However, there was only one blade he wanted to wield tonight.  He passed over a limber cane and picked up a heavy wooden paddle instead. He liked the weight of it in his hand. He chanced a glance back.

 

Castiel hadn’t moved at all from the position he’d landed in. Dean would have to remember to reward him for that later. It couldn’t be comfortable with the swollen half of his face pressed into the dirt. He briefly considered moving him but decided the effort wasn’t worth it. He grinned mischievously as he stuffed two more items into his pocket and made his way back. He placed his boot on the plump ass in front of him and pushed forward.

 

“Spread your legs.”

 

Castiel complied. Dean hummed in approval. It was such a nice ass. Firm, but still nicely cushioned, giving plenty for him to grip. And boy was it tight. Better than the best cunt he’d ever had. The puckered hole looked just so warm and inviting. But it would look nicer still if everything were a nice shade of red to match his back. Red and black went so well together.

 

“Show them to me.”

 

Silence. Dean had expected as much. It would take much more to break the angel. He hit the paddle against the flat of his hand. He did it several more times just to watch the twitch in Cas’s shoulders every time he expected a blow that would never come. Finally he let the paddle hit his intended mark. He hit the right cheek first, and then he hit it again, because Cas would expect him to switch sides. He kept a silent count in his head. One...two… three… ten… fifteen…He felt himself getting harder with every cry that passed Castiel’s lips. When he finally stopped he was panting nearly as hard as Cas was.  

 

“Show them to me.”

 

Again he received nothing. Very well. Time to bring out the big guns. But first, he would give Cas his reward for not moving.

 

The skin was hot and puffy as he spread his hands over the cheeks, knees planted on either side of Cas’s legs. He kneaded gently for a moment before impulse took over and he gave a sharp pinch. Cas gasped in surprised. He pulled the cheeks apart and stared down at his prize. He blew air at his favorite fuckhole and watched as it winked up at him. He salivated at the sight, remembering what the wrinkled flesh would feel like against his tongue. But that wasn’t what he had in mind at the moment.

 

He fished the tube of lube out of his pocket as quietly as he could. He didn’t want to ruin the surprise. He laid down a heavy smack as he flipped open the cap. Sweat glistened and mingled with the blood on Cas’s back. He watched a droplet at the base of his spine make its creeping way up to his neck. With a shiver, Dean realized he was sweating too. The Holy Fire made the barn much warmer than it should have been on an autumn night. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand.

 

He squeezed the tube in his hand to dump the liquid directly on its target. It had been warmed sitting in his pocket, but that didn’t stop the jump of muscles in Cas’s surprise. Dean couldn’t blame him. He rarely bothered with such things when they played this game. He pulled the smooth black plug out of his pocket and slid it through the shiny lube gathered between Cas’s ass cheeks. When it was coated, he shoved it in place. Castiel let out a grunt of discomfort. The plug was the smallest one he owned and it glided in without much resistance. It wouldn’t do much stretching, but it would ease the way ever so slightly once Dean was ready. He liked it when Cas was already open and ready for him.

 

“Stand up and turn around.”

 

Castiel straightened up slowly, clearly desperate to spare his backside. Dean watched him grit his teeth against the bite of pain. The hunter retrieved the other length of rope he had place by the workbench. It was much thicker than the other he’d used earlier. He tossed it up and over a rafter, then wrapped one end several times around the knot between Cas’s tied wrists. He yanked the other end until Cas’s hands were up above his head. He kept pulling until Cas had to raise up on his toes. He tapped Cas’s right thigh and was pleased when it immediately raised up. He cupped the foot tenderly in his hand while knotting the rope tightly around the ankle it was attached to. 

 

Dean moved back to the bench, eager for what he’d denied himself all night. At last he grasped cold metal unlike any other in his hand. The angel blade reflected the light of the Holy Fire all around them. Beautiful. Deadly. Perfect.

 

Dean came up behind Castiel and placed the tip of the blade up at the base of his skull. He trailed down slowly, avoiding the red lines already in place before him. He brought it back up and traced over his shoulder blades.

 

“Show them to me.”

 

He pressed harder. Light red scratches sprung up. Just a little harder and the skin would split. He pulled back and licked at the newest additions to his artwork. Shivers wracked the body in front of him. Dean moved back around to place himself between Cas and the bed.

 

He brought his hand up to cup Cas’s head, trailing his thumb over his cheekbone. He brought it to rest right beside one of those clear blue eyes he loved so much. He stared at it now, drowning in its all-knowing sight.

 

Damn those eyes. They could see everything, from the frightened little boy Dean had once been to the dark, twisted man he’d become. They could see through to his soul, could see where all his secrets lie. Nothing was safe from them. He hated them for it.

 

The thought struck him quiet suddenly; how easy it would be to just rip them out. He could make sure they never saw anything again. He’d just have to move his fingers over a few inches. The skin would give way around the eyes as he plucked them out. He’d do one at a time. Draw out the left first, since it was already swollen shut and useless in its socket, careful to leave the optic nerve intact. He’d make sure that both eyes would see the blade when he finally cut through. He’d bring up the useless eye in his fist to make sure its twin could see as he squeezed it to pulp. The jelly of the eye would ooze between his fingers. He could practically feel it there now. The blood would make red tears down Castiel’s face as Dean forced him to lick his hand clean. Then he would do the same to the other eye. At last the eyes would see no more.

 

Dean came back to himself with a sharp inhale. He was still staring into endless blue. He wondered how much of his desires those eyes had just seen. All of it most likely. And yet, knowing all that, they betrayed no fear. It took his breath away that Cas could still trust Dean with such burning intensity. His heart ached as he brought the blade up to the other man’s face.

 

He traced it lightly over that strong jawline and dragged the blade down to dance lightly over his pectorals. He brought the tip up to a nipple and circled it. The bud pebbled and hardened under his ministrations. The blade continued its journey down.

 

Dean kept up a steady pressure. It was just enough to leave those delicate red lines, but never breaking any skin. It wouldn’t take much though. He could see it unraveling before him. He could bring the blade right between hard abdominal muscles, shear through the bit of fat that was hidden there. The flesh would split like butter for the blade in his hand. And with a normal knife the intestines would burst forth like so many slick sausages. It was delicate work, but he was skilled enough to be able to draw them all out. He could wrap them around Cas’s neck. A man that lived in blood and death deserved a bloody necklace. Dean knew he’d still be alive at that point. He’d live and allow Dean to slice up, open up the ribcage like a box on Christmas morning. And then he could at last hold the still beating heart that had belonged to him these past few years.

 

But this blade was hardly ordinary. Dean knew that instead of organs he would get only blinding light. The grace wouldn’t be any fun to play with. He wouldn’t be able to slice through it like he could meat. He couldn’t grip it tight and parade it in front of Cas as he died. There was no real entertainment to be found if he cut Castiel too deeply with this blade.

 

Still, the fact that he could, if he wanted to, hung heavy in the air between them. This close, Castiel wouldn’t have enough time to react. Dean trailed the blade back up to the place where Cas’s heart lay. He drew a crude image of a heart in red with its deadly edge. Cas opened his mouth as he drew in greater breaths then before. Dean was close enough to feel the erection that prodded at his thigh. He smirked as he reached down to wrap a loose fist around the thick length. Cas’s panting grew louder.

 

Dean moved the blade slowly back down, stopping at the dip in the other man’s hips. He kept the blade there, pressed tight to skin and waited. He trailed the very tips of his fingers feather-light against the sensitive skin in his grip. It was only a moment or two before Cas’s hips gave an involuntary twitch forward, seeking friction against his cock and driving the blade deeper into skin. He jerked back at the pain, and as he did so a tiny pinprick of light was revealed.

 

Dean dropped to his knees and placed the blade down next to him. He planted a kiss to the inside of Cas’s left thigh and brought his tongue upward toward the light. He licked the spot gently and tasted the divine Glory mixed with salt and iron. As he set his mouth to sucking at the wound, his arm snaked around to find the plug sitting snugly where he’d left it. He pushed against the flared base and slipped a finger through the ring that sat there. He pulled back until the bulb of the plug strained to fall out of its new home. Then he pushed back in. He started up a steady rhythm of push-pull, in-out in time to his sucking.

 

He could feel the grace inside him. It was so little and yet it was filling him up. Heat seared within his body, purging him of the darkness. He felt lighter than he had in months. Giddy with euphoria, he smiled against the writhing body he was sucking the liquid light from. Finally he sunk his teeth into the hot flesh in his mouth.

 

Castiel let out a low moan above him and Dean pulled back. The flow of grace had already begun to fade as the damage was undone. An injury dealt directly to Castiel’s essence started healing immediately whether Cas willed it or not apparently.  It had been so minor an injury that it was only taking minutes to heal. The hickey that ringed around it was fading as well. Ah well, at least he still had the marks on Cas’s back to look at. Dean felt a wet patch on his shoulder. Cas was leaking heavily against him. He was getting close.

 

“Show them to me.”

 

Dean whispered the words with Grace tingeing his lips. Cas released a shaky breath and the rustling of feathers caught Dean’s attention. The wings arched out in a lazy stretch and Dean grinned with his victory. He stood and moved behind Cas, his hands trembling as he fumbled with his belt. A sigh of relief escaped as his dick finally sprung free. He pulled the plug out of Cas and flung it away behind him. It didn’t matter where it went. All that mattered was the body hanging in front of him and the massive wings framing the back he’d painted a brilliant red and the ass he ground into.

 

Dean entered with a grunt of delight as he finally impaled the man in front of him on his cock. He wrapped his arms around the angel and nuzzled at his neck. He thrust his hips forward and pressed even closer, ignoring the blood now soaking into the front of his shirt. He reached up to pinch a nipple and whispered gruffly in Cas’s ear.

 

“Com’on Cas. Wanna hear your voice. Wanna hear you scream my name.”

 

Cas moaned and huffed out Dean’s name. Dean blazed a trail of bites against his neck and down his shoulders. He stopped right between the bases of his wings. Blood smeared on his face, a new mask to hide behind. He brushed a hand over the muscled arch of the right wing, as far up as he could reach. He ran it down over the large inky primaries and then back up to the top. He tightened his grip as his other hand moved to do the same on Castiel’s hip. His own hips snapped back and then drove forward, picking up a brutal pace. He drove forward again and again as he panted hotly into Cas’s battered back.

 

“So, so good for me Cas. So good.”

 

Castiel responded with another low moan. He attempted to thrust backwards to meet Dean while maintaining his delicate balance. Dean abandoned his grip on Cas’s hip. He picked up the leg not suspended by rope and circled his arm around his thigh instead. Cas was entirely at his mercy. Dean adjusted the angle until he had Cas crying out with every thrust. He ran with hand through the angel’s midnight plumage. It came away slick from the natural oil. He reached around to take hold of Cas’s dick, stroking as best he could while trying desperately to maintain his rhythm and partially support the other man.  Just a little more…Dean could feel the blood lust fading from him. He was flying; up and up he soared with each call of his name from Cas’s lips. Closer. They were both so close now. _Cas…Cas…_ ”Cas!”

 

The Holy Fire crackled around them as they came calling each other’s names. Dean remained pressed tight against Castiel even after he pulled out. Exhaustion pulled at him as the desire to sleep took hold. All he wanted now was to sleep wrapped up in his angel.

 

Just as the wish popped into his head Dean was falling back onto the old spring mattress. His eyes snapped open as his clothes pulled a disappearing act and found that he was cocooned inside black feathers. The sound of rain drew his attention and he realized that Cas must of noticed the sprinkler Dean had set up. He remained dry and toasty as Cas willed the spray of water around the bed and pressed kisses onto Dean’s chest. Dean laid a hand on the top of Cas’s head and pet the hair their gently as he closed his eyes.

 

“So tell me, what exactly did this have to do with ‘an ancient curse? ’ There isn’t really a ‘mummified Egyptian priest’ trying to steal body parts in order to reincarnate, is there? ”

 

The vibrations from Cas’s questions rumbled through Dean’s chest as they pressed together. “mmmm.” he grunted out. Dean knew Cas didn’t need to sleep, but he should know better than to try to hold a conversation with Dean right after sex. If it was really that important, he could just come find Dean in dream world. Although the last time he’d tried (the first night Dean had brought out the silk panties and Cas had wanted to if their coupling had indeed been more satisfactory than usual) they had ended up going three more rounds in the most bizarre situations Dean’s overtaxed imagination could come up with. Cas never had found out the answer to his question.

 

“May I assume that you’re feeling better now?”

 

“Guh.” Dean managed to grunt out. He shifted as Cas nestled his head into the crook of his neck and settled the blanket over their rapidly cooling bodies. The wings receded as if they had never been and Dean threw an arm over Cas’s smooth back. He pressed a kiss to the crown of his head and allowed himself to drift off.

 

Castiel continued to watch over Dean, whispering sweet nothings against freckled skin. He was well aware of the darkness that lingered within Dean. It was one of the things that drew him to the hunter, like a moth to the flame. That a man could be so good, so righteous while still containing so much pain and anger should have been impossibility. Yet here he laid fierce and loyal right next to the angel. And hopefully, if Castiel had his way, it was where he would stay.


End file.
